


Sticky Fingers

by CaptainErica



Category: Big Bang (Band), K-pop
Genre: Actual Dragon G-Dragon, M/M, supernatural beasts
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-03-10
Updated: 2019-08-04
Packaged: 2019-11-15 03:41:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 5
Words: 16,901
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18065924
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CaptainErica/pseuds/CaptainErica
Summary: Jiyong has a bit of a tendency to end up with the possessions of those closest to him; recently it's been getting harder and harder to get him to give them back. Youngbae is trying to understand, but he feels like he just doesn't have the whole picture...





	1. First

Something was… _wrong._ Youngbae couldn’t quite pinpoint what it was yet, but there was something decidedly off about his living room.

“He’s doing it again, hyung.” Seungri had complained, a frown set soft into his face as he leaned back against the wall after a choreography run-through they’d done solo in the hopes of figuring out if it would be plausible for everyone else. “The stealing thing.” He had added, and Youngbae had just sighed and nodded.

“What did he take this time?” He had asked, and Seungri had wrinkled his nose and mentioned a water bottle that he’d spent a bit of money on.

Was it the curtains? The artwork? The…

“I noticed it was missing yesterday.” Bom was saying, arm slipped casually through his as they walked down the hall, Dara facing them and walking backward.

“Your stuffed…?” Youngbae asks, leading, and Bom nods.

“Yes, moomin.” She says, as if that means anything to him, but, well…

It was the rather expensive statue Seunghyun had gotten Youngbae as a gift for his birthday the year before; it normally sat on the shelf, but it was conspicuously missing tonight. Youngbae sighs, put upon: now he really must go and talk to Jiyong.

Chaerin frowns at him, put out. “He had been doing so good,” She says as she leans against the table in the studio, blonde hair a little wavy as it cascades around her shoulders, hip popped like she’s modeling instead of resting. “He took my rings, I know it was him. I was having lunch with him and when I got home I noticed they were gone.” She says, and Youngbae makes a face then runs his hand through his hair.

“I’ll get them for you, don’t worry about it.” He says, confusion deep in his bones at this point.

“It’s different, hyung, he takes your stuff all the time.” Daesung had said the night before. “And then you get it back, or get something of his… it’s just different with you.”

Minzy and Seungri agree, nodding quietly, not wanting to be the ones to say it, clearly.

Youngbae had dragged a hand over the back of his neck and sighed: nothing to refute there. “It’s getting worse.” He had said, and they’d all agreed.

“He’s… I was talking to him while we were cleaning up after the gym the other day, and saw a couple of my Chrome Hearts bracelets that I’d been missing, hiding in his bag. When I asked for them he was actually… actually _reluctant_ to give them back, got all annoyed with me and everything.” Daesung had added, and Youngbae…

He sighs to himself, standing in his sweats, staring at the spot where his little statue is supposed to go: He will have to go see Jiyong.

He had been putting it off all week, collecting these complaints and accusations and now… Now he would have to actually do something, he can’t keep avoiding it. Youngbae sighs again and goes to find a sweatshirt and hat, before heading out to his car. He doesn’t call Jiyong ahead of time, though, plans to just arrive. He calls Chaerin instead, hoping for a concise rundown of the missing items she knew about, which was helpful but troubling.

He lets himself into Jiyong’s apartment once he’s there; stepping out of his shoes and noticing a pair of shoes he’s been missing for at least a year settled nicely in an open cupboard in the entryway. The sight makes Youngbae sigh softly, almost defeated already.

“Jiyong?” He calls as he steps further into the apartment, imagines Jiyong’s definitely already aware he is there.

He hears a sound from the living room area so he heads that way. “Oh, Bae, didn’t know you were coming?” Jiyong says from just inside the room, clearly on his way out to see him. It’s part of a question, like he’s trying to get Youngbae to confirm what he wants without really asking.

Jiyong is wearing one of Youngbae’s old beanies, and a sweatshirt that might have been Seunghyun’s at some point. The sight makes Youngbae sigh internally.

“Yeah, I wanted to come by, was talking with Chaerin earlier.”

Youngbae watches Jiyong as he says it and he sees the point where Jiyong recognizes what’s going to come next, and suddenly he’s defensive, hunching just a little, eyes wary.

“What did she want?” He asks, and Youngbae sighs and steps forward, urging Jiyong to move back into the living room with him.

“Her rings.” Youngbae says, simple but careful as he walks them to the couch. “And Bom’s stuffed animal, the one she carries around with her, and…” He trails off as they sit down, Jiyong curling away from him, clearly displeased. “You haven’t done this in a while.” He adds, and Jiyong makes an annoyed sound.

“It’s just stupid… stuff.” He says, defensive, not hiding that he had taken any of it. This is a development, Youngbae thinks, a _good_ thing.

The first time Youngbae had found out that Jiyong was taking things from the members was just after debut. They shared a room then, a small room with a tiny window and blankets for a bed. There was a closet that they kept their clothes in, and under all of the dirty clothes one day, Youngbae had found Seunghyun’s missing hat, Seungri’s missing tennis shoes, and 2 of Daesung’s plushies.

Jiyong, Youngbae remembers as he walks out of the apartment building with a bag of things Jiyong had rather unwillingly parted with, had refused to admit to anything.

“I dunno how they got there.” He had said, shrugging. “They should take better care of their things.” He had said.

Youngbae shakes his head and continues to his car, sending a group message that he’ll drop their things off tomorrow before he settles into the driver’s seat of his car and sighs. “what am I supposed to do with you, Jiyong?”

He hadn’t noticed, when they were younger, when his own things would go missing. Seunghyun had explained, one night while they were a little drunk right after the GDTOP debut, that Youngbae didn’t notice because Jiyong always gave his things back, or traded them for things that were Jiyong’s. Their stuff was so similar for a long time that it didn’t matter, wouldn’t have mattered.

“It got worse when we started moving out.” Daesung had said one night after he had found out Jiyong had one of his lego kits.

Youngbae heads home, trying not to dwell on it. Maybe Jiyong was just… Maybe he just had a stealing problem. He never used to do it to the girls too but he had been spending more time with them recently so maybe…

Youngbae doesn’t get the statue back, forgets about it, but Seunghyun notices it at Jiyong’s place a month and a half later and mentions it casually. The resulting meltdown ends the nice lunch they were having rather abruptly, and Seunghyun tells Youngbae that he’s probably not coming in to record for a few days.

There’s a week, a blessed week, where nothing happens; no one mentions anything being taken, no one notices anything of theirs on Jiyong’s person… But then, of course-

Dance practice had been long and difficult. Jiyong was in a relatively decent mood but Seungri was _not_ and Daesung whispers while they’re taking a water break that he’d lost his lucky practice socks. It sounds small, but sometimes… well, Youngbae knew that sometimes the small things were really the most important for them. He doesn’t think on it until the end of practice as they’re packing everything up and then it all comes crumbling down around them.

Seungri, quietly annoyed all practice, scrambles up from his position on the floor digging through his bag, and points at Jiyong’s bag. “Those are my lucky socks.” He says, not loud but definitely accusatory. The room goes silent, like a breath being held, and they’re all watching.

“No.” Jiyong says, too quick to be believable.

Seungri’s not done though, shuffling closer, half on his knees still. “That’s Daesung’s, his watch, Hyung??”

Daesung moves like he’s surprised into it, and his “What?” of confusion blends into Youngbae’s slightly more placating “Jiyong-ah, maybe-“ and cuts him off.

Jiyong’s reaction is swift and startling. His face shifts into something horrible; pain and anger and annoyance and _rage_ , and he rips into his bag, pulling the things out of it and dropping them on the floor. “Fine! Fine! Take EVERYTHING!” He shouts, “All of it!” and then he’s gone, and the ringing in their ears from the slam of the door is exceptionally loud in the remaining silence.

“Hyung?” Seungri asks, all innocence now like he hadn’t started the whole thing, looking back at Youngbae with confusion written into the lines of his face.

Youngbae shakes his head, blinks, and then stands up. He has to go after Jiyong, doesn’t he? Has to figure this out; what’s causing it, what’s bringing it up again, and why…

It wasn’t Seungri’s fault, Youngbae knew this, but he had been hoping for longer before anything went bad. He should have known better, should have known that with the breakdown the week before with Seunghyun and the smaller one previously this was bound to happen. They were bound to end up here with a reaction like this.

He leaves them in the dance studio and heads down the hall, ears peeled for any sound. He tries a couple of doors, and then stops in front of their studio, hand reaching out for the doorknob. He sighs, closes his eyes, and then tries the handle – locked.

“Jiyongah.” He says, stepping close to the door; sideways so that he can put his ear to the door. “Open the door, yeah?”

There’s a faint shuffling on the other side of the door, and Youngbae holds his breath because he isn’t sure if Jiyong will open it or not. “No.” Jiyong says, strong, and Youngbae sighs deeply and lets his head drop to the door.

“Please, Jiyongah.” He says, cajoling, eyes closed. “Let me in.”

There’s silence for a few more moments, and then the door unlocks with a click. Youngbae lets his fingers curl around the knob, and then turns and pushes the door open, slipping in quickly and shutting it behind him.

He spots Jiyong wandering toward the displays and so he heads for him there. “Hey, wanna talk about it?” He asks, and Jiyong comes to a stop mid-stride. “About what just happened?” He presses a little more when Jiyong doesn’t say anything.

“Not particularly.” He says, and it’s almost whiny, definitely not a very good mood to work with.

Youngbae sighs and takes a few steps closer. “I think we should.” He says, no room for an argument, and Jiyong’s shoulders tense then relax in a slump.

“I can’t… I can’t stop doing it.” He says without looking back, “and… and they don’t appreciate their things, leaving them around, _I_ appreciate them. All of it.” Jiyong says, clearly agitated, hands working but Youngbae can only tell that from the tenseness of his shoulders.

Youngbae stops, considering, and then reaches out to touch Jiyong’s shoulder. It was a strange statement, to be sure. “I don’t believe you’re incapable of stopping.” He says, soft, encouraging.

Jiyong doesn’t like that reaction, though, tensing more and then turning to look at him. “You don’t know that.” He says, acidic, harsh, and Youngbae almost pulls his hand back from where it’s hanging in mid-air now; offended.

He doesn’t, though, because that would let Jiyong think he had won this round and Youngbae isn’t ready to concede just yet. “If I don’t it’s only because you haven’t explained it to me.” He says, calm but there’s a little bit of wounded pride in there like Jiyong has offended him by not telling him every little thing.

The change in Jiyong is palpable; his whole demeanor shifts after a moment of consideration and Youngbae wishes he knew what had been going on in his head to lead to the sagging, the frowning, the pitiful look he’s getting now. “You wouldn’t understand.” He says, simple and soft, and Youngbae steps forward to drag him into a powerful hug.

“I’ll always try to, though.” He says, soft and comforting, and Jiyong’s arms twine around him tightly and refuse to let go.

~

Jiyong’s fingers twitch, are itching to reach out and _take._ He holds it back, though, for the moment; he has to be good or he’ll have to explain it all to Youngbae. He won’t be able to keep it all inside any longer if Youngbae pushes him again.

It’s not his _fault_ though, eyes on the fancy sneakers sitting on the end of the bench. If people just appreciated their things then they wouldn’t be on his radar.

_Liar._

Jiyong makes a low sound, like a petulant growl, and turns away rather forcefully. Ok, so it wouldn’t matter where they put their things or how much they liked them: He wanted it all, everything. Everything was _his._

_Idiot. They’re yours._

He growls softly again and very resolutely turns for the door, only hesitating the tiniest fraction when he goes to pull it open. He could do this, he could _do_ this.

He can’t do this.

Youngbae’s bag is sitting on the table in the studio when he gets in there, and with nobody in sight, Jiyong’s itchy fingers slip into the opening and pull out the first thing they land on; a ring. His eyes light up, a feeling of giddy pleasure slipping through him, and he slips the ring onto one of his fingers and then settles into his chair at the front of the room.

_He’ll find out._

But Youngbae won’t, and that’s the best part about taking _Youngbae’s_ things. Youngbae knew they were Jiyong’s, knew that everything that he had was Jiyong’s. _Does he, though?_ It didn’t _matter_ , the others couldn’t, they were too possessive, they didn’t understand that these were _his_ and he _needed them_ and-

“Hyung? My turn?” Daesung asks, voice soft but confident from the entry. It breaks Jiyong’s devolving circle of thoughts, and he manages to nod, newly acquired ring moving between fingers.

Jiyong’s itchy fingers compel him to take Youngbae’s watch later that afternoon, and then one of the hats he had left on the table. Youngbae didn’t care about his things, but Jiyong did, would take good care of them…

Two days later Youngbae notices the watch on Jiyong’s wrist, and at first Jiyong thinks he’s going to convince himself that it isn’t his, but unfortunately-

“Jiyongah, I’ve been looking for that.” He says, almost reproachful, but _not quite._ “Did I leave it here the other day?” he asks, and it’s an out, gives Jiyong the chance to _lie._

“Should take better care of things.” Jiyong says, and he’s very aware that he couldn’t give Youngbae ownership.

Youngbae takes the watch back, easy and without any more fuss, and Jiyong is frustrated because it was _his_ but then, so was Youngbae so it was ok.

_Mine._

Reaching your majority, as Jiyong’s mother would tell him whenever he had one of these phases, whenever he would break down because he _couldn’t handle_ the compulsions he had, was life altering. It meant that he would come into his own; powers stronger, abilities heightened, needs and compulsions more intense.

Being famous, he remembers thinking when he was 20 and still a few years away from this fabled majority his mother talked to him about, was the easiest way to appease his needs: he could buy shiny things, expensive things, he could _have_ what he needed and wanted. The hardest part is the part he’s still learning to handle: people are just as easily claimed by his inner compulsions as pretty objects are. Youngbae was the easiest and the first, the others it took a little time. Some people would slip in and out of his ownership and that didn’t bother him so much but…

But it’s what caused the mess with Youngbae 3 months ago having to come and get _their_ possessions back from him. He scowls at the memory even now; those things were _his._

_Youngbae is still yours, it’s ok._

It comes to a head a couple of weeks later. Teddy, who had just spent a large amount of time with them during some recording, was missing a couple of bandanas and a hat; Chaerin had lost a necklace after dinner with them; Seungri was complaining that his new pair of shoes was gone and he remembers last seeing them in the studio; Bom couldn’t find her new bag, the one with all of the fake-gold studs…

They hadn’t said it, but the accusations were there, and Jiyong could _feel_ them. But…

“Jiyong.” Youngbae says as he settles himself on the couch beside him. “Hey, look at me, yeah?” He prods, and Jiyong considers _not_ obeying because when even did Youngbae get into his house and why should he listen, but he uncurls himself from his unhappy pout and very grudgingly does as asked. “That’s better.”

It _isn’t_ though, because Youngbae is going to accuse him of _stealing_. It’s _not_ stealing, though, because it’s all _his,_ and Youngbae should just _know_ that. “Is it?” He asks, whole being shrouded in this black mood.

Youngbae nods, and Jiyong very quietly appreciates how he can ignore the aura of doom he has settled himself into for this conversation. “I prefer talking to you when you look at me.” He says, and Jiyong wrinkles his nose but stays silent. Youngbae pulls in a breath, lets it out slow, and sags a little in his seat. “I need you to be honest with me, Jiyong-ah.” He says, and Jiyong’s lips curl in a look of distaste.

“I’m always honest with you.” He says, and it’s not a lie it’s just not the truth and it makes his insides crawl. _But he can’t tell Youngbae, can’t tell him, because he would leave…._

Youngbae shakes his head, though, hands settling in his lap ( _rings_ ). “You’re not telling me something, something important, Ji.” He says, and Jiyong hates it when Youngbae uses nicknames when they talk like this because it’s almost manipulation but Youngbae isn’t actively trying to manipulate him and that somehow and for some reason makes it worse.

“I tell you everything.” He says, then grimaces because it’s a lie, and Youngbae doesn’t need to be lied to, he’s too good, too….

“Tell me, Jiyong, why do you take other people’s things? You can buy them yourself if you like them so much, but I don’t think you do, and I think you _know_ why you do it.” Youngbae sighs, looking away just a second. “I just need to know so that I can make this easier… and, you’ll have to give me their things back.”

It’s so-

It’s so unfeeling, almost, that Jiyong recoils. He has to remind himself that Youngbae doesn’t know and can’t possibly understand but the reaction has already happened and Youngbae looks bewildered and uncertain and: “I’m a dragon.” He says, and then his eyes go wide and to cover _that_ he scowls again and curls in on himself.

Youngbae is quiet, and if Jiyong were looking at him he would have seen him blink as a dozen emotions and thoughts crossed over his face at one time.

“Jiyong.” He says finally, and Jiyong flinches, curling away from him more, deeper into the corner of the couch like it can swallow him whole. “That’s,” he sighs, “that’s not an… what?”

_This wouldn’t have happened if you had just let yourself relax._

The traitorous voice in his head makes him pull in a gasped little sob of unhappiness. “I didn’t tell because you wouldn’t believe me.” He says, which may or may not be the truth, but it _hurts_ so much to have Youngbae not understanding something about him and only now does the force of it hit him.

Youngbae is flabbergasted, blinking rapidly, hands reached out toward Jiyong but stuck in mid-air. It takes him a few seconds to speak again. “Jiyong-ah, dragons aren’t, they’re not real.” He says, but there’s a soft question in that statement and it’s asking Jiyong to _prove it_.

 _Just show him, and he’ll believe you. He’s_ yours.

Jiyong tries to corral his reactions and impulses, tries not to be pissy and… “Fine.” He says, pissy sounding, but then he uncurls himself to stand and moves to an empty spot on the ground and…

“What the fuck.”

~

Youngbae is still reeling.

It’s been a few hours, a solid 3-4 hours since Jiyong had transformed into a real, live _dragon_ right before his eyes and he can’t get through it. Jiyong has retreated into himself now, curled in on himself in a chair on the other side of the room. Youngbae _should_ go and see what he can do, if he can fix this ever-widening rift between them right now, but he needs just a little longer to process.

“So, you’ve always been able…?” He asks, and the silence had stretched out between his first outburst and Jiyong’s loud whine of annoyance at it, and Jiyong looks up at him sharply.

“To turn into a dragon at will? Yeah.” He says, and the ‘what of it?’ isn’t said but Youngbae can hear it loud and clear.

He refrains from asking why Jiyong had never told him, how he had missed it, why he had never seen it, and instead sits forward with his knees spread and his elbows resting on them. “So you take things because…” He says, leading.

Jiyong’s eyes flash, almost gold in the low light of the room but Youngbae ignores that. “They’re mine.” He says, fierce but low, like his frustration is trying to get the better of him but he’s keeping it down for now.

Youngbae pulls in a breath, nods, eyes darting around a bit like he’s trying to gain his footing and isn’t sure where or how to begin. “You can’t take other people’s things.” He says, and then immediately regrets it because Jiyong makes a low sound similar to a snarl or a growl.

“They’re _mine._ ” He reiterates, and the feeling behind that is so intense that Youngbae pulls in another deep breath and shifts a little.

“What is yours, Jiyong? The things? Because you know they aren’t.” He says, and Jiyong’s eyes shift like maybe Youngbae is right but he doesn’t say it. “I need the missing things back, you know that, I know you do.” He says, and he won’t ask for his own things that he _knows_ Jiyong still has. He can keep them. “But we can’t… You can’t take things without permission.” It feels so stupid to say it, and he knows he doesn’t understand because the look on Jiyong’s face, the way he keeps reiterating that the things are _his_ … they all speak to such a deep, emotional feeling of connection that Youngbae just can’t even fathom right now.

Jiyong looks at him, eyes filled with some mixture of betrayal and hurt and rejection. It’s painful, very painful. Youngbae closes his eyes, takes a calming breath, and stands up.

“Come on, Ji, come here.” He says, and he has to push through the confusion, because…

Because wasn’t Jiyong the one that was actually wronged? Wasn’t Jiyong the one going through something more than any of them could imagine? He pulls Jiyong out of the chair and into a hug that isn’t returned for just long enough that Youngbae thinks maybe it won’t be… but Jiyong’s arms eventually wrap around him, holding him close.

He ignores the soft sound Jiyong makes that sounds like a softly hissed ‘mine’.

He ignores the way his own mind conspires against him and agrees with that sentiment.

~

Youngbae doesn’t make him tell the group.

_Shouldn’t they know that they’re yours? Now that Youngbae knows…._

He shakes his head, pulls in a breath. It’s really hard because he knows deep down that Daesung might not understand; He knows that Seungri will be confused and uncertain, and that Seunghyun will… And that’s why he can’t tell them yet.

Youngbae drops a hand to Jiyong’s shoulder, standing silently behind him as he fidgets with the rings on his fingers. He isn’t making him tell them, but he’s making him apologize.

“I’m… I’m sorry I took your things.” He says, and it’s disingenuous at best and a lie at worst and none of them believe him but Youngbae isn’t asking for the truth just an apology.

Daesung accepts readily, leaning forward to reach out a hand to touch one of Jiyong’s fidgeting ones. Sincerely accepting. Seungri isn’t quite so easy, but that’s to be expected when Jiyong had been the most acidic to him and his reactions.

“Wasn’t so bad, hm?” Youngbae whispers in his ear as they turn back to their work and Jiyong fights back the pleased shiver that threatens to overtake him at the closeness of it, the intimacy.

“Maybe.”

It’s possible, Jiyong muses over the next few weeks, that Youngbae might have told them all something more after the apology. They’re all a little more forgiving afterward, a little more understanding.

~

Youngbae pretends not to see how the others have changed after his talk with them. Seunghyun especially will probably be an issue; giving Jiyong little things, slipping rings and bandanas and books and pens and anything little he can get his hands on into Jiyong’s hands. The little chirp of pleasure Jiyong sometimes does when he gets something is enough for Youngbae to understand why Seunghyun might do it.

It’s… adorable.

He thinks Seunghyun does it simply because it amuses him, especially when he catches him slipping a pack of gum into Jiyong’s narrowed line of sight while Jiyong is reprimanding Seungri over nothing. Jiyong’s eyes go big and bright when he notices the pack, and then his dexterous fingers have slipped it from the table and the frustration is gone.

Every little thing that Jiyong gets his hands on delights him, and Youngbae isn’t sure how he hadn’t noticed it before. He must have been too wrapped up in… he can’t even imagine but now he knows, and now he can appreciate the warm joy that courses through Jiyong whenever he’s holding something he hadn’t previously had in his possession. This leads to Youngbae spending a lot of time with his eyes on Jiyong’s fingers as they play with trinkets, and that leads to thoughts that Youngbae forcefully pushes aside.

“I have a question, Jiyong.” He asks a few weeks later, sitting at the counter in his own apartment. “How often do you spend like that… like the dragon?” He asks, curious and simple.

Jiyong looks up at him from the cup he was playing with, and frowns lightly in thought. “Not as much as I should.” He admits, then grimaces and looks away. “Sometimes I’m too anxious or tired, and I don’t… I don’t want to cause any trouble, or get too big… I’m not really as small as I was when I showed you that’s just, it’s just the easiest way to be that way in an apartment, you know?”

“Don’t want to break anything, yeah.” Youngbae says, fascinated, distracted by the thought of a much bigger red and gold dragon than the almost dog-sized one Jiyong had transformed into.

Jiyong looks offended. “I would never break my things.” He says, then shakes his head, “But, you mean the like walls and things and… yeah.” He shakes his head, looking away.

Sometimes Youngbae spends hours on the internet looking up information on dragons to see if he can match any of the behaviors to Jiyong. It passes the time, but it also makes him wonder. There are some things on there that really…

“You’re almost an adult.” He says, almost out of the blue one night, late. He’s twisting back and forth in his chair, warm and comfortable and _tired._

Jiyong ignores him a moment, just kind of grunting in response, and then he seems to actually register what was said and he turns to look at Youngbae, almost incredulous. “What.”

Youngbae waves a hand, dismissing his rejection, “I mean, like, for your… dragon?” He says, had almost said _species_ but feels like that might be a little touchy and it’s too late to fight.

Jiyong doesn’t quite relax, but a flicker of something runs over his face that’s gone before Youngbae can truly identify it. “Ah, yes.” Is all he says, and then he’s turned back to his work.

Youngbae frowns at that, considering. Jiyong reaching maturity meant that he would be able to find his soulmate and also that his powers would be at their height, right? “But aren’t you excited?” He presses, just a little, “have your full powers, all that?” He doesn’t mention the soul mate thing, because that would require looking, wouldn’t it.

Jiyong sighs, almost put upon. “I can barely use what I have now, it’s all more a nuisance than anything.” He says, pressing a button then seeming to give up. “We should go home.” He says, and when they leave he takes Youngbae’s hat.


	2. Soul~

It’s very sweet that Youngbae is trying to understand him, Jiyong thinks as he lies in bed pretending he is ok. It was very sweet, is very sweet, is so very Youngbae. It wouldn’t be easy, Jiyong knows, and it’s entirely because Jiyong doesn’t want to have to explain. It’s a stupid feeling, but he can’t help it; he wants Youngbae to just understand like he does everything else in their lives.

Jiyong gets out of bed slowly, feeling gross and knowing what he needs to do, but not _wanting_ to. It was scary, though. That fear of his that he would never turn back again if he indulged this need, this… this basic requirement for him to function normally. He wished Youngbae knew that too, just _knew_ it without any thoughts or words being necessary. But he didn’t, so Jiyong has to shake that feeling off for the moment.

The day before, while at the studio, Youngbae had thrown his arm around Jiyong’s shoulders and squeezed him a little and that brightly possessive part of himself had hissed in pleasure. He’d almost hissed in real life when Seunghyun came over to get Youngbae. It was a reminder, mentally, that he needed to do this.

Jiyong scrunches his nose up and stretches out, gangly arms bent awkwardly over his head, and then curls in on himself as he relaxes before leaving the room. He moves slowly down the hall, wondering if he should eat first, if that would help; _Youngbae would tell you to eat, you do what he says, don’t you?_ He wrinkles his nose at himself again and then changes direction to go to the kitchen. It’s irritating, all of the things he needs to do to stay healthy, to stay proper, to stay _normal._

He eats something from the fridge, kimbap that he thinks his manager dropped off the night before, and then makes another attempt to convince himself down the hall.

He didn’t _need_ to do it in the spare bedroom down the hall, the entire apartment was his, but this room… Well, when his thoughts wander to what is _in_ the room, his feet make the decision for him and he’s greedily pushing the door open and shutting it soundly behind him, pressing his back against it for a moment as he looks over the piles of _things_ just laying around in the room.

_Mine._

His horde was his pride and joy, years’ worth of accumulation, all piled carefully in this side room that he pretended was a closet so no one would go in when they visited. Jiyong’s eyes dilate, going wide and hungry to look at everything, and his fingers itch to touch, stroke, pick up…

His nose elongates, arms pressing against his sides and then changing, and soon he’s in his dragon form. A shiver runs through him, delicious feeling, comforting. This was who he was, and everything in this room was _his._ He picks his way as carefully as a car-sized dragon can through the piles, nose nudging at different things, tail brushing against others. He settles in a nest of stuffed animals, fansite face blankets (mostly Youngbae’s face, but who is looking?), and old clothes, and curls a large wing around himself to cover his face before falling to sleep.

~

Youngbae catches Jiyong wandering around his apartment in his dragon form one day, a few weeks later. He’s proud of Jiyong, really. He’d called Jiyong’s mother eventually to try and find out more and she had been more than helpful, though clearly upset that Jiyong hadn’t told Youngbae sooner. Something in how she said it made him think he was missing something more, but he couldn’t think about it because he knew Jiyong had been neglecting himself now.

“Ah, you’ve been looking better.” He says to the large dog-sized G-Dragon sitting on the couch and looking at him almost disdainfully. “So you’ve been changing more? Your mom said that would help, that you were supposed to.”

Jiyong’s jewel-like eyes narrow at that, and a little snort leaves him, and all Youngbae wants to do is go over and _pet_ him, but that would be rude, wouldn’t it?

“Said it would help you feel more yourself, you know?” He continues on, moving around the coffee table, Jiyong’s jewel-bright eyes following him as he gets closer. “You’ve been doing well, yeah?” He says, and he isn’t sure what he means by that, but it’s half how he talks to animals and half how he talks to humans because it’s confusing to be talking to Jiyong like this.

Jiyong watches him a little, and Youngbae knows Jiyong understands him, and he’s pretty certain he can even speak in this form, but instead of saying anything he just shifts and then lies back, exposing his stomach. Youngbae doesn’t hesitate, then, just makes his way over to sit beside him, hand finding Jiyong’s upper chest to give him a gentle pat. He doesn’t notice the way Jiyong’s eyes close and his clawed toes stretch out.

~

_Youngbae. Youngbae. Youngbae._

Jiyong groans and turns over, pulling his pillow up to wrap around his ears, eyes pressed tightly closed.

_Where is Youngbae?_

He was in Japan, shooting something, and then he was going to Hong Kong.

 _Youngbae is_ mine _why isn’t he here?_

Youngbae was busy, he had work, Youngbae had things to do! He couldn’t just be _here_ whenever you wanted him-

_He’s mine. MINE._

Jiyong makes a loud sound of frustration, sitting up, pout full, hair messy. He fumbles around a bit in the dark before his hand manages to latch onto his phone, and then he pulls it to him to check the time: Youngbae would still be working.

He wrinkles his nose, glaring at the lack of messages from Youngbae, and then clicks on the new message from Daesung; not Youngbae, but close enough for right now.

It only takes a few minutes of wheedling before Daesung agrees to come over and make breakfast with him. They’re both horrible at it, but Jiyong feels a little bit better now that someone is here, someone that’s _his_ is here. He’s only minorly disappointed that Daesung had come without any random jewelry or extra things on him that he could potentially take; he got the attention he was needing, even though deep down he was still aching for Youngbae’s presence.

It’s a Thursday when he finds out that Youngbae is moving again. He’d sort of known, really, deep down. Youngbae had been talking about wanting more space, about wanting a little yard, about wanting privacy and security and not really wanting to be in an _apartment_ any longer. But actually _knowing_ that he was moving was physically painful.

“But we’ll never see each other again.” Jiyong had said, swiveling in his chair a little, frowning up at Youngbae who did not agree with him.

So now, Saturday, Jiyong is sat in Youngbae’s apartment, glaring as he packs little important things, and then an overnight bag.

“I’m literally staying with you tonight.” Youngbae says as Jiyong watches an unnecessary bandana get tossed into the overnight bag. “And my place is near Seunghyun’s, you still see him.” He says, and Jiyong can _feel_ the ‘it’s not the end of the world, we were already not living in the same place’ even though Youngbae doesn’t say it.

“But it’s further away.” He says, and he knows he sounds petulant, but he thinks… He thinks he knows why he can’t let Youngbae go, can’t push him to the side like the others in the group, and he’s not ready to admit it quite yet.

Youngbae stops what he’s doing, an extra pair of socks in his hand, a hat dropping into the bag as he turns more fully to face Jiyong. “Jiyongah.” He says, and Jiyong can practically see the way Youngbae’s mind makes itself up on something. “You can come over whenever you want, I am always here for you.” He says, careful and precise, and Jiyong feels his heart constrict, retract, and then start beating rather hard.

He pulls in a breath and looks away, lips still pulled into a pout, still looking petulant. “Will it be safe?” He asks, and maybe that’s part of the problem, or maybe he’ll pretend it is in case Youngbae can hear the way his heart is beating – _mine, mine, mine, mine_ –

Youngbae’s lips part, and then he shakes his head, dropping the socks into the open bag and coming closer. “I’ve got big tall ceilings now, yeah? You can come over and be a great big dragon and you won’t ruin anything and no one will see.” He says, promises, explains.

Jiyong nods, and that’s… Youngbae had thought about _him_ while choosing a home – _he should, should always think of you, he’s yours –_ and it was a great feeling, wasn’t it? One of the best, like a breath of fresh air, like electricity jolting through him in the most pleasant of ways…

~

“I think Jiyong is hiding something.” Seunghyun says, purely conversational. He’s sat back in a low chair that Youngbae thinks is made purely from plastic and hope, legs crossed at the knee, yellow-tinted glasses covering his eyes.

Youngbae considers rolling his eyes, but… but it’s been almost a year now since they’d told everyone that Jiyong was sorry for taking their things, and so really they all have the right to believe he is.

“Like what?” He asks instead, interested, nonchalant. They’re in Seunghyun’s living room, later in the evening. He’s taken to calling Youngbae over when he gets lonely or bored, always late at night. It’s easier for them to get together now, their houses so close; it grates on Jiyong’s nerves, Youngbae can tell, as they’ve started talking about it on their most recent broadcasts.

Seunghyun pulls in a breath, lets it out slow, and then reaches for his glass of wine; equally slowly, like he’s trying to make a point, or trying to gather what his point is. “I don’t know.” He says, and it’s careful, and that raises Youngbae’s alarm just a touch. It means that Seunghyun had wanted Youngbae to be the first to lay out the accusation or thought; that he was hoping _Youngbae_ had seen whatever it was that he had seen.

Youngbae’s lost the chance of finding out what exactly it is that Seunghyun thinks Jiyong is hiding, and that rankles. He’s sure that Seunghyun will call Daesung after he leaves and talk with _him_ about it. “Aw, come _on._ ” Youngbae says, a forced tease, and Seunghyun’s lips hitch up into a smile. “Tell me!”

Seunghyun laughs, and that’s always good in these situations, and then he’s shaking his head and shrugging. “Well, something is going on. He’s been clinging to you more recently, hasn’t he? Hasn’t bothered the rest of us hardly at all, hasn’t taken anything unless it’s handed to him…” There’s a pause here, and Seunghyun’s smile is more mischievous, because _he_ is the one who has been indulging Jiyong with little things he can steal and he knows everyone knows it. “I don’t know, Youngbae, but the way he reacted to you moving a couple months ago…”

The trail off was meant as a lead in for Youngbae to say something placating and derivative. It was meant, Youngbae is certain, as a way to let Youngbae continue the line of thought and the simple narrative that Seunghyun was painting.

But Youngbae’s mind goes a little blank before his cheeks go warm, and he takes a sip of his wine to cover it. “Yeah, he’s just… he’s never been good with change, you know that.” He says, taking another sip, fortifying, “And with the upcoming release schedule… he’s just needy, always has been, and this is the easiest thing for him to focus on: me moving closer to you instead of closer to him.”

It was what Youngbae had been telling himself for a while, ever since he had announced his move: Jiyong was jealous that he had chosen to live closer to Seunghyun instead of closer to him. He couldn’t live closer to Jiyong, though, that area was not his scene, that building too… much. It wasn’t him at all, and he thinks that maybe that also was part of what was bothering Jiyong; he _knew_ that, he knew that none of that was Youngbae at all, that it was all only barely even _himself_ and it ate at him and made him act like Youngbae was moving out of country instead of 30 minutes from the agency.

Seunghyun taps his fingers against the side of his glass, thoughtful, watching as all of those emotions run over his face, probably. “Yeah, you’re probably right.” He says at last, in a tone that rather clearly says; but you’re also completely missing something and you know it.

Chaerin drapes an arm over Youngbae’s shoulders, leaning heavily into him as if she couldn’t possibly bear her own weight. It’s a week later and Seunghyun’s words, his tone… they’ve been running through his mind on a loop ever since. Chaerin bumps him with her hip, an action that shouldn’t be possible with how she’s got herself pressed against his side but then she’s balancing on heels so he supposes…

“Oppa, you promised to take me for kimbap and ddeokbeokki, not to stand around here blankly staring at the wall.” She whines, and Youngbae blinks back to himself and snakes an arm around her waist from behind so he can pinch her side.

“Yah, be polite.” He says as she squeals and pulls back, laughing and hitting at him. He’s teasing, though, and they’re on their way into the restaurant soon, slipping into seats in the back, both of them buttering up the server; an older lady who exclaims over them and fusses that they need to eat more as she takes their order and convinces them into ordering _more._

“Jiyong-oppa ignored my call this morning.” Chaerin says, simple and even, as she pulls out chopsticks for both of them from the little drawer on the side of the table. “Dara says he’s mad at me for going out to lunch with you.”

Youngbae takes the chopsticks and then the spoon she hands him, giving her one of the thin napkins resting on the table so she can set her utensils down on it. “I doubt that.” He says, in a tone that says he really _doesn’t_ but can’t admit it verbally to her or himself.

She makes an annoyed sound, then shifts a little before having to sit back as someone from the front of the restaurant brings them a plate of freshly made kimbap. “Are you mad at Dara for going to dinner with Jiyong last night?” She asks, and it’s such a strange question that Youngbae raises an eyebrow, hand paused on its way to grab his chopsticks.

“Why would I be?” He asks, trying to remember what he knew about the night before. “Didn’t they go to some restaurant one of Jiyong’s fashion friends suggested? Bajowoo, right?” He asks, and Chaerin rolls her eyes at him, which is rude but he’s clearly missed the point so he lets it pass and picks up his chopsticks.

“Yes, but that’s not the point. That’s what _we’re_ doing, just going to lunch, and Jiyong is _jealous._ ” She says, emphasizes as she grabs a piece of the kimbap and pops it into her mouth.

Youngbae wrinkles his nose, chewing his own bite and grabbing a second. “You’ve not been around much recently.” He points out, next piece paused in mid-air as he thinks out loud. “And you haven’t gone to see him yet since you got back.” He adds, and she rolls her eyes again and shakes her head.

The older lady comes back and moves the kimbap dish to the side, adding a plate of ddeokbeokki and then disappearing again. Chaerin watches the food get set down, eyes bright with pleasure, and then shifts to look back at Youngbae once everything is settled.

“Because he wouldn’t confirm anything, unlike _you._ ” She says, waving off the rest of it, the soft bitterness hanging in the air. “What I’m trying to get at, Oppa, is that he’s mad I’m with _you_ , not that you’re with me.”

It’s such a fine little detail that Youngbae doesn’t quite see the difference yet, and that’s very frustrating to him because he’s always been so _good_ at handling Jiyong, at understanding him.

As he prepares dinner for himself that night he thinks about it, mind running over it as he wanders around the kitchen in sleep pants and damp hair. Was he missing something? Was it a _big_ thing that he should have noticed already? Was it…???

But he can’t think of what it might be, can’t put his fingers on what the issue might possibly, could possibly be.

~

Jiyong is drunk. Very, very incredibly drunk. It was always a bad idea for him to get drunk while out because he was _famous_ and also horribly, constantly, and without fail scrutinized to the core for everything he did… But it didn’t matter because he was already drunk, already at a nightclub that he vaguely remembers is owned by –

“Jiyong, hey, time to go home.” A voice says, low, warm, memorable. “Come on, get up.”

 _Mine._ _That’s mine, that’s Youngbae._

He knows who it is without any real help, too drunk to look at him or to really hear him through the loud music of the club. The club is in Hongdae, a stupid choice for Jiyong but…

_It’s closer to Youngbae._

He’s in a car without really being aware, and he panics just a little, struggling against the hold around his shoulders until he remembers that it must be Youngbae. They’re leaving the car shortly after that, walking as carefully as possible up the walkway that Jiyong’s slippery mind recognizes as the one that leads to Youngbae’s house.

“Stay here, hm?” Youngbae says at some point, and Jiyong disagrees rather vehemently, arms slipping sneakily around Youngbae’s waist, refusing to let go. Youngbae sighs, though Jiyong barely notices, and then hauls Jiyong up onto his back, easy as anything (delightful), and walks him further into the house.

“Youngbae-ah~” He singsongs, warm and close to Youngbae’s ear. It’s a little louder than probably intended, a little breathier, a little – “Hyungah, carry me~” He teases, and he can feel Youngbae’s laugh more than hear it, but he’s okay with that.

He’s not okay with the glass of water pressed to his lips, not okay with Youngbae leaving him on the bed and disappearing… He curls up into a little ball in the mess he had made of the covers while searching for Youngbae’s warmth, and tries not to think as the world starts to tilt even with his eyes shut tight, as everything begins to spin a little as he tries to get his drunken bearings.

“That’s it, go to sleep Jiyongah.” Youngbae whispers, suddenly close, and one of Jiyong’s arms slips out from under him of its own accord to grab at Youngbae, pull at him, wants him _here_.

“Mine.” He whispers, drunkenly fierce, “Youngbae-ah, you’re _mine._ ” He breathes out, the edge of a hiss to his words, slurred though they are.

Youngbae settles behind him, weight barely enough to dip the mattress, and drops an arm over Jiyong’s waist like he _knows_ he needs to keep touching Jiyong or there will be a problem – _knows because he’s yours –_ and it’s not close enough but he’ll take it, he thinks. He thinks it as he presses back, as he forces there to be a little more contact, as he drops rather heavily into a bone deep sleep.

Jiyong’s dreams are a messy tangle of base urges: need, want, anger, _rage_ , need… and always, always, always it’s Youngbae, circling him, not understanding, caring, trying, _hot—_

It was too much, waking up next to Youngbae in the early hours of the morning, still a little drunk, stomach considering a revolt.

“Get in the shower, helps.” Youngbae mutters, not quite awake yet, curling closer then away so Jiyong can get up and…

And Jiyong slips unsteadily out of bed and goes into the bathroom without being told again. He needs to keep himself in check. He needs to hold onto those dark, needy _wants_. He stares at his reflection, watches himself, and knows he can’t do it forever.

_Mine, my soulmate._

He’d known it, really. Jiyong thinks to himself in the shower, and then again two days later when he’d overworked himself in the studio and Youngbae had dragged him back to his house to sleep. He had known it for a long time and had been ignoring it, been pushing it aside because it was probably not the best thing to focus on but…

But it was a worse thing to ignore as it lead to him needy and feeling constantly rejected. It lead to a rollercoaster of emotions that had him snapping at Chaerin when she needed comforting, and crying on Daesung’s shoulder when he had only said he didn’t have a pencil.

He apologizes to Chaerin over FaceTime, hair in his eyes, mouth covered in a cloth mask. He’s embarrassed, and she can see it, and she doesn’t _know_ that he’s a dragon and that he’s collected her and Daesung and Youngbae most of all but she does seem to understand just enough.

Youngbae is at a photoshoot today, some big brand, Chanel? Or was it Fendi? He should remember but he was too needy to really _care_ which one it was ( _lies, it’s Fendi, and it’s on the other side of the city, and you need him_ now _but you can’t have him_ ) _._

When he calls it goes to voicemail, but he gets a message about an hour later saying they could meet up at Youngbae’s, he would make dinner, and that little inner monster of his beams in delight. He uncurls from his position atop a nest of CDs, and turns back into himself, stretching his neck a little. He looks down and has another little thought, a sneaky, little, pervasive thought.

 _If Youngbae was his, then so was Youngbae’s house._ The thought starts, simple logic. _If his house is his, then he can put his things in it._ Further logic, easy and simply to follow.

He picks up a Chanel bag that he usually just carries around empty aside from the clips and things he likes to litter it with, and shoves a few delicate handfuls of things into it. Youngbae had one empty room he hadn’t done anything with yet. He never even went in there. It would be fine.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been hard to write recently, but I hope you enjoy this, and I will try to update again soon ^^


	3. Nesting

Something was off with Jiyong.

Well, Daesung thinks as he watches him surreptitiously from the back of the studio, something more than usual.

Jiyong had been getting more and more possessive of late, which wouldn’t necessarily be a strange thing in and of itself, but it was _what_ he was possessive of that was the problem. Or… well, _who._ The problem, also, was that Youngbae didn’t seem to notice it. He didn’t notice the way Jiyong would almost physically recoil when he suggested someone come over to his house, or go out to eat with him. He didn’t notice the way Jiyong would try to hide a glare when he was touching someone else he didn’t…

Well, Daesung thinks with a bit of an internal pout as he watches; Youngbae didn’t notice _anything_ , and he was starting to believe it was more because he didn’t want to than anything else. It would be sad, or amusing, except that Daesung feels like it’s because there is something more to Jiyong’s issues than either of them were telling the rest of them.

He watches as one of Youngbae’s rings disappears off of Youngbae’s hand and then very deftly onto Jiyong’s finger. The instances of stealing had gone down, but what had replaced it?

Or maybe… Well, Daesung didn’t want to make guesses about things he didn’t know anything about, and Youngbae would never hide a relationship from them. Daesung pauses at that and looks down at his phone, away from Jiyong. Maybe the difference in behavior had to do with Youngbae.

Jiyong had always had a rather strong attachment to Youngbae, and for the past few months Daesung had guessed that maybe something more was there that either they weren’t aware of or that they weren’t ready to admit. Daesung frowns at his phone, seeing a message from Seunghyun pop up: _have any coins? I think Jiyong is mad at me and I still have to record today._ Daesung snorts and reaches for his bag, fishing around before responding back: _Yeah, a few, I’ll come out to give them to you, wait by the bathroom._

If Jiyong was mad at Seunghyun, then Daesung was not going to be visibly helping Seunghyun get around it, he thinks as he stands up and slips the coins into his pocket.

~~

Living the closest to Youngbae afforded Seunghyun the kind of insights that Daesung lacked, but not into everything. The main thing that his proximity offered him was the ability to tell how often Jiyong had been staying there, and also when there were changes in the décor.

Youngbae had only lived in the house for about 4 months when Seunghyun had noticed the first change. “Ah, I see Jiyong returned the statue.” He had said as he leaned against the counter in the kitchen with a wine glass in hand, eyes on a shelf that the statue was resting on.

Youngbae had looked up in that direction, a soft frown on his face, before he had nodded. “Yeah, seems like it.”

Seunghyun had found that reaction only mildly odd, and had quite forgotten the encounter by the next time he was over. It wasn’t until a month after that, this time sitting in the living room with Youngbae, that Seunghyun noticed a painting that had only a week before been hanging in Jiyong’s apartment. When Seunghyun asked about it, nonchalant and sipping at his wine, Youngbae had seemed confused and then surprised it was there.

There were more things, of course, more little things that Seunghyun noticed. Jiyong, he noticed, didn’t like it when he pointed out that something was new or had been in Jiyong’s apartment before. The one time he had done so had earned him the cold shoulder for a week, and Jiyong frowning at him all throughout the rest of that dinner.

It was interesting, though, and amusing of course. Seunghyun wondered if this stealing thing, this hoarding instinct could extend to people, and then… Well, he would need to see if anyone else had noticed this first.

~~

Jiyong stares, frowning, at his piles. They had dwindled rather considerably over the past few months, and quite excitingly Youngbae had not noticed anything… despite Seunghyun’s insistence upon trying to tell him things had changed.

Jiyong sniffs, a little disdainful, a little bit of smoke curling from his flared nostril. It had seemed like a good plan, bringing all of his things slowly to Youngbae, every time he had done it over the past month or two. But now Jiyong knew, really, he knew why he was doing it just like he knew now he had to let himself change every so often.

_Youngbae is mine._

Jiyong changes back into himself, pushing a hand through his hair as he settles into his skin again, and makes his way to his room where he had left his phone. He passes a mirror on the way and preens just a little, pleased with what he sees _what Youngbae can see_. He finds his phone as he’s contemplating the glow to his skin, the fullness to him that makes him look healthy.

There are 2 messages, 1 from a friend that he doesn’t care much about reading, and the other…

Mind made up, Jiyong pulls some clothing on and heads back to his spare room with a small duffle bag. “Just a little something, Youngbae will never know…” he murmurs as he picks up a couple of shirts, frowning a little as he does so and then setting the duffle down so he can rearrange the piles: he couldn’t have _nothing_ here, if he did he wouldn’t be able to sleep when Youngbae’s house wasn’t available to him.

Jiyong frowns again as he picks the duffle up to head home…. He shakes his head: to head to Youngbae’s.

Youngbae had been talking about turning the ‘empty’ spare room into a study, recently. It was ridiculous, mostly because Youngbae had always tried to keep his work life away from his home life. _Except for you,_ that little voice whispers, _he keeps you in both._ He kept all of them in both, it was just the actual _work_ part Youngbae didn’t bring home.

Jiyong sighs, slipping the bag into the passenger seat as he gets in to drive to Youngbae’s. He could probably fend Youngbae off for a little while longer in the redecorating department, but he would have to come clean at some point. It was hard, though, he wanted to keep his horde a secret, keep his _possessions_ a secret, but…

~

Youngbae stares at the door to his spare room, almost like he’s trying to will it to open on its own.

Jiyong had gotten drunk the night before, with everyone over, and since he had already planned to stay the night, Youngbae hadn’t felt bed heading to bed early. He had expected to find Jiyong in bed with _him_ this morning, but when he had realized why he wasn’t uncomfortably warm upon awakening, he had gotten up to look for him.

Jiyong hadn’t been in the living room or kitchen, not in the bathroom, and his car was still there. Youngbae had even checked the back yard before he remembered the spare room, and now here he is. Here he is, standing before the door and almost worried to enter. He rationalizes it as fear of the unknown, but Jiyong would probably be in dragon form, wouldn’t he?

There was nothing to fear from that, but… He pulls open the door, annoyed with himself for the hesitation, and steps inside.

The first thing he noticed was _not_ , in fact, the large, red and gold dragon. The first thing he noticed were the large piles of things; CDs here, merchandise there, a pile of old tshirts, some sweatshirts… Then he turns to Jiyong, the big, hulking form of him.

One great, gold eye was open and focused on him, quiet. It was almost like he was coiled, waiting for the shoe to drop and Youngbae to react.

“Jiyongah.” He says, slow and quiet. “You scared me, I didn’t know where you had gone.” He says, as if _not_ sleeping in the same bed as him was the weird thing and not normal for friends their age.

Jiyong shifts a little, the end of his tail shifting, his head turning just a little. “I’m here.” He rumbles, and somehow he manages to sound pathetic and sad and very small.

Youngbae sighs and shakes his head, eyes casting back about the room again. “I guess this is why you didn’t want to help me plan something for this room, hm?” He asks, min suddenly running to a very peculiar word: _nesting._

Jiyong’s sister had mentioned it over the phone to him a month or so ago. They had been talking about Jiyong gaining his maturity as a dragon, and she had brought up _nesting_ as a reaction to finding… to being…

Jiyong is standing before him when his eyes wander back, and he blinks, startled, clearly. “Ah, come on, let’s get you clothes.” He murmurs, and Jiyong rolls his eyes and sighs but follows Youngbae out.

It was a reaction to finding a _mate_. Dami had said that very specifically; “You’ll notice it, of course. His things moving out of his place, the other person’s looking more… well, it’s called _nesting_ and I’m surprised, honestly, that it hasn’t happened already but then I don’t see him every day.” It had seemed rather strange, but she brushed it off when he had asked her why she had expected it to have already happened.

“I suppose it’s my fault for not noticing it earlier.” Youngbae says as Jiyong pulls on a pair of his pants and one of his shirts. He’s sitting on the edge of the bed, watching him (no, just… not _watching_ …). “But why?” He asks.

Jiyong sends him a little pout as the shirt settles over his waist, and then shrugs. “I need it. Now more.” He says, and Youngbae’s nose twitches as he remembers those conversations; Jiyong had gotten better about explaining things, but also about taking care of himself since Youngbae had moved out here…

“You could have told me.” He says, but he knows it’s not true: it meant more than what Jiyong was admitting it meant, and therefore _telling_ him would have led to questions that Jiyong didn’t want to answer. He can see it on Jiyong’s face as he asks it.

“Well, I’m here a lot, and it helps me… rest.” Jiyong tries, like he’s testing if it works for Youngbae as a proper answer.

Youngbae sighs, shaking his head. “You could be honest with me?” He asks, and Jiyong makes a face at him, and it’s a face that means that Youngbae should know the answer so _why should he be honest?_

“Nothing more to say.” Jiyong says, a little defiant, and Youngbae looks at him, a little considering, which makes Jiyong squirm. “I hate that you don’t just… know.” He says, and then turns to leave before changing his mind to settle beside Youngbae on the bed, dropping with a bit of a sigh. “But I guess you can’t if I don’t say anything.” He says, “right?” He adds, looking up at Youngbae.

Youngbae sighs softly, considering him. “No, I can’t know, though I can guess based on what your mother and sister tell me.” He says, and Jiyong’s nose wrinkles and a pout forms. Youngbae finds it cute, finds it… well it’s a relief when he can still guess how Jiyong will respond to something. “They’re _extremely_ talkative. So I suppose if I really need to know, and you won’t tell me, I can call one of them…”

Jiyong makes an annoyed sound, and reaches for Youngbae’s hand like he’s meaning to stop him. “It might be… for a reason.” Jiyong says, before shaking his head and standing up. “Make me breakfast, I’m starving.” He says, rather abrupt, and Youngbae almost misses the dash of pink across his nose as he turns away and…

He’s going to call Dami anyway, he thinks, going to ask her to explain this nesting thing a little more.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Slow but sure...


	4. Four

Recording and preparing for his upcoming solo made Jiyong remember exactly why he hated it and exactly why he loved it.

He loved it for the freedom, for the things he got to do and things he was given. It gave him the chance to try things that, while most of the group would likely be fine with it all, he preferred to try out on just his own voice and look and person. He liked it for the attention and the people who he got to see and meet and talk to.

He hated it for the attention as well, though. Hated it for the extra layer of scrutiny and the way it felt like itching under his skin, the way it made him retreat into himself and question and misunderstand and blow out of context and proportion. He hated being solo because he was alone in the studio and in dance practice and in meetings. He hated it because Youngbae wasn’t there.

_Mine, Mine, where is he?_

But this time, this time Youngbae was working on his solo as well, slower than Jiyong because he was working on modeling contracts and featurings and random things that made his time in the studio less productive. He was also going slower mostly so that Jiyong’s album could come out first. He knew that, knew that he wanted Jiyong to have his time to shine but…

_Youngbae needed to shine. Youngbae deserved it._

He thought this just as much as he thought that he didn’t want Youngbae to have any attention ever.

Daesung had called Jiyong out part way through their most recent comeback rounds. In promotions and on stage and everywhere it was clear that Jiyong would get distracted by Youngbae. Rather embarrassingly he had been so unable to focus that he had asked Youngbae to _cover his chest_. It was embarrassing because there was no reason for it, he and all of them knew that the fans loved Taeyang’s chest. They all knew that it was Youngbae’s _thing_ to lose his shirt. But…

Well, it was getting to him, he knew it, and Daesung had stopped him in the back of a van on the way home one night with a pointed question. A question that only didn’t end in Daesung getting hurt because Youngbae was in another van ( _horrible, terrible, Youngbae should never…_ ).

“If you aren’t going to actually tell him you want him for yourself, what ownership do you think you have over him?”

It was a little incendiary, and he knew that Daesung knew how rude it was but……

Well, he had a point, and the rationally human side of him had to agree. The only problem was that it drove him into one of those horrible feedback loops of uncertainty, doubt, and terrible guilt. A loop that Youngbae forcefully put an end to by making Jiyong get out of his apartment, making him go to the studio and start fixing himself the only real way he had ever known how to: creating.

So it’s months after MADE and it’s time to work on his solo, and Youngbae is here with him… For now.

Because Youngbae was working on his comeback also, and Youngbae had features and requests for his time and attention, and people trying to take his attention from him and…

_What ownership do you have over him?_

_Mine, MINE._

He didn’t have any ownership over him if he couldn’t tell Youngbae, couldn’t answer all of Youngbae’s questions. He needed to, he knew, or he would just get worse, Youngbae would just…

_He’s mine._

The temptation was always there, Jiyong thinks as he stares at Youngbae’s profile late, late at night. The temptation to reach over and take, to lean in and touch and… He couldn’t do it, he reminds himself as he shakes himself out of it, because he was too human and too vain and too worried that Youngbae wouldn’t or didn’t feel the connection, the tight bond between them. He worried that Youngbae didn’t feel it how he felt it, and never would. He knew it was ridiculous to expect Youngbae to feel the exact same, but—

_Tell him._

It was a compulsion, but by the time he had gotten his feet planted under him, his mind ready for the confession and the conversation…

”I’m going to Japan this weekend, Daesung said he’ll be there for a short time as well, so I’m just going to stay, you know? Not worth the travel back and forth with the number of activities I have.” Youngbae is saying, conversational, pencil tapping arrhythmically against the notebook before him. His eyes are unfocused, Jiyong notes, like he is just talking out what’s on his mind.

It dumps a rather icy bucket of water over Jiyong’s thoughts of explaining himself; Youngbae couldn’t think of a good reason to come back for the few days between his activities. If Youngbae didn’t think it was _worth_ —

“You staying at my place?” Youngbae asks, catching Jiyong in the middle of his spiral of nasty thoughts.

 _Mine._ “Yeah.” He says, easy as a softly pleased feeling rushes through him. That was better, because it meant that Youngbae was thinking about him.

~~

“Hyung?” Daesung asks, trying to sound politely deferential. It was hard for him after so many years with them all. Not because they didn’t deserve his respect, but because to him they were _actually_ his brothers, his closest friends, closer than family and he forgot his age often because of that; they all did.

Jiyong grunts in response, and Daesung holds back a sigh, sitting back instead as he rolls his eyes. He can’t help the reaction any more than he thinks Jiyong can help his own. They’re in a waiting room, no one else there for the moment though he knows there will be other people shortly, as soon as the place actually opens. They were here so that Daesung could finalize the purchase of a building, and Jiyong had needed to fill out some paperwork for some of his own properties. It had seemed like a smart idea to go together; less stretching of their guards and managers if they were together.

The problem, of course, was that Youngbae was in Japan right now.

Daesung scoffs internally at that. _Of course_ that was the problem, though Jiyong had never confirmed anything or said anything, but Daesung _knew_ that was Jiyong’s mood. He knew that Jiyong was huffy and distracted because he missed Youngbae but… But Daesung had had his share of love affairs and none of them had turned him into an absolutely useless mass just because his significant other was not in sight.

_Something more is going on._

It was a persistent enough thought that Daesung had to believe it was true. There had to be something more than just Jiyong pining. Why would he pine like this? What was it about? Seunghyun had suggested a number of possibilities ranging from the completely implausible to the mildly impossible, but Daesung was not convinced yet.

“Sorry, you were asking me something?” Jiyong asks after a very long moment, his voice fairly level and calm; his phone slowly being stowed in his tracksuit pocket. “About the paperwork?”

Daesung hums and sits up again, just a little. “No, the line at the door.” He says, tilting his head that way subtly. “How long do you think we will have to sit here after they’re all let in?” He asks, and Jiyong wrinkles his nose, but urges Daesung to sit back and relax, talking with him more now as they wait.

~~~

Youngbae calls Dami on a Thursday night from his hotel room in Japan. He had been there for a week, hadn’t meant to be but it was easier than flying back and forth like they had been known to do for their group activities. The length of time away was why he was calling Dami, and as she answered he imagined that she had to know that.

Dami always knew everything.

When Youngbae had first met Jiyong’s family, he hadn’t known what to do around Dami. She was pretty, sure, but he had never really noticed it and she had always seemed to notice _that._ He had found her intimidating, no matter how kind she was to him, and it was mostly because she seemed to just… to just _know_ something that he did not, something he was missing.

He knows now that she absolutely did know something he didn’t, and he was slowly working on getting more information from her. The big question tonight was still the one he had been asking for the past month or so: _nesting._

“What aren’t you telling me?” Youngbae asks only a minute or so into the conversation. He had asked about her business and her current life and… Well, she knew what he was really calling about anyway, and she had never thought Youngbae rude.

There’s silence, then a sigh, “I’m assuming you’re asking because Jiyong’s being impossible?” She asks, light like she hadn’t given a beleaguered sigh. “He called me 4 times this morning while I was working.” She adds, and Youngbae winces.

“I can’t give him the attention he is asking for.” Youngbae says, and then snaps his lips shut. It had been said softly, worried almost.

Dami is quiet again, possibly only politely so in case he says something else. “No, not like this.” She says when it’s clear he’s not going to continue for the moment. She sounds gentle, careful, but it’s still hard for him to understand.

Youngbae stares at the desktop in front of him for a moment, trying to work out what he wants to ask. “He won’t tell me what he needs, and I know it’s something but I can’t…”

“You won’t.” Dami says, easy and just so simple. “You won’t until he tells you, I know that, and I think he knows that, and…” She sighs and Youngbae feels bad, suddenly and completely, for putting her in the middle of it all. “You need to ask him for more information, Youngbae-ah.” She says after a moment. “He’s not… I’ve told you pretty much everything I know about nesting, Youngbae, I haven’t experienced it myself yet.”

Youngbae wrinkles his nose to himself, wishes she would just be plain with him, make this easier. She always spoke in hypotheticals about this specific topic. It was like she was dancing around the answers he needed, dancing around the answer hiding in his own mind. Sometimes when she said something just right, it was like he was on the edge of a precipice, staring down with wheeling arms trying to keep him from falling into the understanding.

He still couldn’t figure out why he wasn’t allowing himself to fall into the well of understanding, but… but he thinks maybe Dami is right: he needs Jiyong to tell him.

He falls asleep thinking about nesting, thinking about everything he knew about it; tip-toeing around the edges of that well, probing but not yet falling. It’s like he can’t allow himself to connect the dots until Jiyong tells him these things. It’s like he needs Jiyong to define ‘nesting’, define his behavior, before Youngbae’s mind will allow itself to slot everything into place. It’s infuriating, and he falls asleep annoyed with himself.

~~~

“Move it to the left.” Seunghyun says, a little slowly, thoughtful. He’s very purposefully not looking at Jiyong, staring past him at the person hanging his new painting.

The person moves the painting, oblivious to Jiyong’s strong pout turning toward him as Seunghyun continues to ignore him. With a short confirmation from Seunghyun, the man hangs the painting where he wanted it, and then bows as he grabs up the wrappings and leaves.

“Perfect.” Seunghyun says, and Jiyong lets out a noisy breath in response that only makes Seunghyun reach absently for his drink and continue to ignore him.

Jiyong shifts, loud in his plastic seat. “If I’d known coming over here was just going to end with you getting off on a painting and ignoring me I wouldn’t have come over.” He says, and Seunghyun finally turns his eyes to him.

He takes in the look on Jiyong’s face, assessing it easily as he takes another sip of his drink. “If I’d known you were going to be in a mood, I wouldn’t have invited you.” He says with a carefully raised eyebrow, before setting his glass down and turning toward him more. “When is Youngbae’s flight back?” He asks, soothing the reaction Jiyong had just started to form.

There’s silence, and Seunghyun tries to read it, read the way Jiyong’s tense shoulders relax in a rippling effect that ends in him shaking his head minutely. He’s never understood it, the slow way Jiyong’s eyes blink like a lizard, the way Jiyong’s head tilts, and he doesn’t think he ever will; he was missing too much information to put it all together. He wonders idly as the moment stretches how many packs of gum it would take him to get Jiyong to at least smile.

“Saturday.” Jiyong says, the moment shorter than it had felt. “But not until later.” He adds, clearly disapproving of that but it just makes him look whiny, which is slightly better than the mood previously.

“Mm, you’re staying there, right? At Youngbae’s?” He asks, almost as if he isn’t completely aware, and almost as if it’s common knowledge that Jiyong would be; he isn’t sure how Jiyong will take that, though.

Jiyong sniffs softly as he sits back, almost petulant. “I’ve stayed a couple of times, but it doesn’t really matter.” He says, before shaking his head a little vigorously like he’s trying to erase that last part, stop Seunghyun from reading into it. “Why do you ask?” He adds, seemingly a little wary of Seunghyun’s interest.

In Jiyong’s defense, Seunghyun thinks as he picks up his glass and takes a long sip of his drink as he very definitely reads into that last statement, he had every right to be in some ways. “Just making conversation.” He says, almost teasingly innocent, leaning back and crossing his legs. “You didn’t want to be ignored, you said.”

Jiyong rolls his eyes but he’s starting to smile, deciding that he doesn’t want to be upset with Seunghyun. That was an interesting decision, he thought, though pleased that he didn’t have to give up any of his possessions for Jiyong to at least smile. Jiyong didn’t often so easily dismiss his little worries, not lately, he was on edge and ready for a fight more often than not, especially when Youngbae wasn’t there. “I guess you’re right.” Jiyong says, and Seunghyun contemplates the other alternative to Jiyong’s moods when Youngbae wasn’t around: blackouts at parties and clubs that were very obvious screams for _something_. This is the obviously preferable reaction.

“Of course I am, I’m extremely right.” Seunghyun says, smile easy and wide and teasing. “Ah, nobody going out tonight for you to spend time with?” He asks, face a mask of politely feigned interest.

Jiyong wrinkles his nose, reaching for his glass and swallowing the rest of his drink. “No.” He says, easy, considering his empty glass. “Xin is busy doing something, he called earlier to cancel, and everyone else is back in Japan or still in the military.” He sighs, wrinkling his nose just a little before returning to his perusal of his glass, nonchalant. “I’ll head over to Youngbae’s to check on it, then head home.” He adds.

It’s a lie, Seunghyun can see it, can almost _feel it_ , but he doesn’t say anything about it. He knows Jiyong will stay at Youngbae’s tonight, wishes he could call Jiyong on it right now but, well, he needs Daesung to agree with him on at least one of his ideas before he pushes it out there.

~~~

“You need to talk to him. To Youngbae. You have to.”

Jiyong puts his hands over his ears, thinks he’s going insane. First his mother, then Chaerin, then his sister, and then even _Soojoo_ had said it to him, over the phone before a shoot. And now, again, his sister.

“I can’t give him any more hints. I don’t think he’s willing to put it together unless you tell him, wouldn’t believe anyone if they told him. It has to be you, Jiyongah.”

She was right, he knew Youngbae well enough to know that he would never assume anything about Jiyong. He was too kind, too… well, he was also too unaware of how perfect he was.

What was most annoying, really, was that neither Soojoo nor Chaerin knew he was a dragon. Neither knew the true depth of what he was feeling. Clearly he wasn’t hiding anything very well. Clearly he was really just truly gone on Youngbae and now he wonders what Seunghyun and Daesung must be thinking about them now, he knows Seunghyun is always scheming about something.

It’s raining, which Jiyong thinks is rather poetic and which he knows Youngbae will think is romantic and Seunghyun will think is horribly over-dramatic. He pushes the thought of Seunghyun rather forcefully out of his mind; he’s sure Seunghyun saw his car drive past, somehow.

He’s not wearing a hat, or holding an umbrella. He’s dressed like he would have dressed when they were younger; baggy jean ‘shorts’, a too big white t-shirt, white shoes… It’s really just missing the hat, but he’d been in a rush and his bandana was shoved into his pocket instead of on his head. It was a stupid little thought he had had that had ended in him considering _running_ here like a complete lunatic and ended with him not finishing the outfit but he had _tried_.

_Mine, Youngbae is mine, you shouldn’t have to…_

He shakes his head, wet hair already plastering itself to his face, water dripping into his eyes. This would be fine, it was Youngbae, and it would of course be fine. He just had to _say_ it, just had to tell Youngbae that-

“Jiyong? What are you doing, it’s raining.” Youngbae says, startling Jiyong into taking a half step back before he manages to stop himself and take a full step forward to get closer to Youngbae.

“Yes, it is.” He says, finding his voice to be stronger than expected. He thinks it was the shock, it helped, and he hopes that he looks the part he was hoping to look. “And I, I’m here because, ah, Youngbae, I need to tell you something.” He says, and Youngbae blinks, shifting a little. Jiyong likes that, because it means he’s surprised him.

“You should come in out of the rain.” Youngbae says, stepping back just a touch.

Jiyong doesn’t move, though, refusing for the moment. “No,” he says, a little smile touching his lips as he looks up at Youngbae through his wet hair, “No, it would ruin the moment.” He shifts a little closer, holding out a hand to point at Youngbae’s chest. Pleasantly, Youngbae just kind of hitches a smile at him, and that’s perfect as it makes Jiyong’s heart flutter and his inner monster _purr_. “You’re it, you know. You’re what you keep asking me about, keep trying to get me to explain.” He says, stepping just a touch closer but still in the rain.

Youngbae tilts his head, smile still there but it’s on its way to being replaced as he clearly starts to process everything, allow it all to _chink_ softly into place. “The one?” He asks, just a prompt.

Jiyong hums, nodding softly, eyes on Youngbae, keeping him focused on him as his fingers grasp at the front of his shirt. “ _Nesting_. You asked me about it, but I was too chicken to tell you that I was basically moving in, needed to be near you as much as near my _things._ ” It’s not near as hard to say as he had been building it all up to be. And… Well, wasn’t the point of all this that he was Youngbae’s as well?

His mother had reminded him of that over the phone the day before, after the conversation with his sister had just ended in him being petulant and ludicrous. _If Youngbae is yours, then you are his. There’s nothing to fear, you know that._

Youngbae is looking at him, clearly standing on a precipice, right on the edge, and all Jiyong needs to do is give him a little push, he can see it so clearly; Youngbae was an open book for him. “You calling me a _thing,_ Jiyong?” Youngbae asks, and Jiyong laughs, free hand brushing his wet hair out of his face as he tugs at Youngbae’s shirt to bring him out into the rain as well.

“You’re a lot of things, Youngbae.” He says, very close, lips forming a smile even as he speaks, “Mine being the most important of them.” He adds, eyes flickering from Youngbae’s mouth up to his eyes and then closed as he tugs Youngbae close and presses in to kiss him.

Youngbae’s hands find Jiyong’s shoulders immediately pressing into the kiss just a short moment after it has been initiated and oh… it’s like fire, like fire and electricity rolling up his spine and it makes him hungry for more. He presses in with a sound that shows how much he wants it, a sound that’s half a growl and half a desperate little moan, and Youngbae echoes it softly back.

Youngbae has him pulled inside shortly thereafter, the door shutting solidly behind them, Jiyong focused only on being pressed close and very wet up against Youngbae’s front, grin very warm and pleased. He steals another kiss, feeling sensual and hot and it’s strange and amazing at the same time, because Youngbae clearly feels it, too.

~~~

Youngbae’s made Jiyong change, run a towel through his wet hair, and sit down, and… He still has no real words. He feels like an idiot, though Jiyong tells him he isn’t, tells him he knew he needed to be told.

“It’s actually really nice, you know? Knowing you would never assume something like this because you respect me or something, I dunno.” He had said as Youngbae had watched him change (watched, it’s what you were doing, what you always did).

“You were going for romantic and nostalgic all at once.” Youngbae accuses as Jiyong sits down with a glass of wine on the couch. The grin he gets back is quite worth everything. “Seunghyun is going to have a field day, I bet he saw you drive up.” He adds, and Jiyong snorts, taking a sip of his drink before beckoning Youngbae closer.

“Don’t talk about him, yeah? You should tell me how hot I am and how glad you are you get to kiss me whenever you want.” Jiyong says as Youngbae steps over and sits beside him.

He flushes, he knows he does, but it only seems to make Jiyong smile more. “I’ll remember that.” He says, only looking down a moment. This is… It’s new but it’s what he wants, what he’s wanted deep inside. Something he never let himself feel until… Until Jiyong said the words.

“Mm, I bet you will.” Jiyong says, before setting his glass down, taking Youngbae’s, and shoving him back against the side of the couch for a more in depth exploration of Youngbae’s mouth.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> There might be one more after this, but I haven't decided yet. Let me know what you think ^^


	5. End

“I can’t believe that for a good 2 days I thought that they were hiding a relationship from me.” Chaerin says, confounded, annoyed, frustrated. Her blonde hair is a little messy; well-styled early in the day but then ruined by excessive finger-combing.

Daesung snorts, “I thought it for a few minutes most every day but then changed my mind every time I remembered how clueless Youngbae is.” He says, taking a sip of his wine.

“Well, now you both know what they’re like while _dating_ so you can’t ever make that mistake again.” Seunghyun says, back from the front door with Dara and Bom in tow. “Drinking my wine and starting to gossip without me? I’m hurt.” It’s playful, and it makes Daesung roll his eyes but Chaerin just finishes off her glass with a smile and then raises it to him while batting her eyes.

Seunghyun pours her another glass, along with one for Bom and for Dara, ignoring Daesung.

“It was the whole between the legs thing that got me.” Daesung says, “On stage.” He adds, as though Seunghyun were not ignoring him to make a point.

Bom giggles at that, “I thought it was adorable.” She says, which makes Seunghyun snort.

“Well, you didn’t have to deal with everyone offstage.” Seunghyun says as he sits down, crossing his legs, dramatic.

“But Jiyong’s been better, at least, right?” Chaerin asks, and Daesung and Seunghyun look at each other, a silent look that spoke volumes of nothing if you didn’t know them very well.

Seunghyun looks away first, shrugging, and Daesung sighs, pouring himself a drink before he answers. “Hard to say; he’s better at giving things back than he used to be.”

~~

Jiyong moves into Youngbae’s in every way but the most official one. He stops at Seunghyun’s on the way with his final bag of things, his old apartment basically just a museum now.

There were knickknacks on the counter when Jiyong had entered, but they were in Jiyong’s pockets by the time Seunghyun was done pouring him a drink. “Youngbae’s not home yet.” He says, toying with the glass after taking it from Seunghyun.

“No, or else you’d already be over there.” Seunghyun says, eyebrow raised.

“Harsh.”

Jiyong’s leg bounces, curled against the rung of the bar stool. The glass in his hands tilts as he waits for Seunghyun, amused, not offended at all.

“It’s called the truth, Jiyong.” Seunghyun says after a rather pregnant pause. “I’m basically omniscient, you know.” He adds, and Jiyong snorts out a laugh, shaking his head.

“You wish.” He says, then pouts a little bit. It’s a ploy, fingers fiddling with the glass still as Seunghyun finally settles a hip against the island across the counter from him. “You’ve been talking about us, hyung.” He accuses, and Seunghyun hums, amusement on his lips, behind his glass.

“We’re friends, I talk about my friends with my _other_ friends from time to time.” He says, avoiding. Jiyong huffs a bit, frowning a little more pathetically. “We’re all very pleased you two have finally realized you’re in love. It was painful for us to watch you, you know.”

Jiyong tilts his head back at that, cheeks warm and he’s thoroughly embarrassed. “God my sister has been unbearable about it. I’m ignoring my mom right now because she’s convinced that I had to have known all along and was hurting myself and Youngbae for _art._ ”

Seunghyun snorts, then laughs, tilting forward because he can’t contain it. He has to set his glass down so as not to spill it everywhere. “Wow, I mean, I wish _I_ had thought of that one.” He says, “As it was, we all just thought you were both horribly stupid.”

Jiyong throws him a glare, eyes flickering to yellow briefly before returning to normal. He catches it fast enough that Seunghyun might not have noticed, maybe. He should tell him, them.

Not yet.

~~

“Chaerin said her new watch went missing after she had lunch with you.” Youngbae says from the kitchen. Jiyong was somewhere in the house, prowling around, chasing Iye whenever he managed to find her. “Said you touched her hand in sympathy about her ex-boyfriend or something and when she left she noticed it was gone.”

He waits after that, chopping vegetables calmly, a half smile on his face as he hears the thump of Jiyong’s tail as it hits a wall, clearly ruining whatever amount of stealth he had been going for. He dumps the veggies in a pot and a head pokes up from the other side of the counter. Jiyong’s gold eyes are disappointed looking, and Youngbae just turns a sweet smile on him.

“Wasn’t you?” He asks, thinks it definitely was; no matter what, Jiyong couldn’t help but to covet things that weren’t really his.

The red and gold scales on Jiyong’s head glint gently in the light from the overhead lights. There’s a beat, and then the golden eyes roll, and Jiyong huffs out an annoyed sigh and his head is gone and Youngbae can hear him clambering down the hall.

“You have to call and apologize this time.” Youngbae says a few moments later when Jiyong has reappeared with the watch hanging from an ear. The soft pout he gets from the dragon is almost too much, but he holds his ground even as he reaches across the counter to take the watch. “I can’t make up excuses for you every time. I love you, but it’s not exactly easy.” He says, doesn’t say that they all had clearly thought that the kleptomania would end once he and Jiyong had started dating.

Jiyong huffs again and drops his head to the counter, dejected, pouty, and Youngbae _almost_ cracks, but he knows it’s a ploy.

“If you’re going to act like that…” Youngbae starts, and Jiyong squirms a little before slipping away from the counter and changing back into himself. By the time he’s around the counter and has his arms around Youngbae and his face in Youngbae’s neck, his eyes are back to brown.

“Have to be nice to me, you’re cooking and I’m naked.” He whispers, and Youngbae rolls his eyes to himself, but it’s fond and exasperated and…

He sets the knife down and turns in Jiyong’s hold, arms slipping around Jiyong’s naked waist, “Do I need to make a rule about being naked in the kitchen?”

Jiyong snorts, eyes soft and big and sweet. “Only if the rule is that if I am naked in the kitchen you take me out of the kitchen and into bed with you.” He says, and there’s the wicked little gleam that Youngbae should have expected.

He pinches Jiyong’s ass and bumps him away from him when he yelps. “Let me finish this and I’ll consider it,” he starts, clearly amused instead of annoyed, “and only if you promise to call Chaerin.”

Jiyong groans, and Youngbae can feel it, mostly because he’s glued himself back to Youngbae’s back, sneaky hands slipping under cloth to find skin. “fine, but hurry up, I need you naked.”

~~

Very few people knew the lock codes needed to get into Youngbae’s house. There were two, one for the gate at the front, and then one for the front door. It was an important factor in Jiyong deciding to complete the move into Youngbae’s house; this way no one could get all the way in just in case Jiyong was otherwise… occupied.

It was a day off, Youngbae out in the backyard exercising because it was a nice morning, and Jiyong prowling around the house as a couch-sized dragon, carefully not touching anything. He was better at changing now, did it most days. He tended toward changing at night only when Youngbae was gone, so he could sleep on his hoard and not be missing out on sleeping beside Youngbae.

But Jiyong was prowling around inside today, not interested in watching Youngbae work out in full pajamas this morning. He’s considering stealing some of the shoes from the entryway, paused in the living room on his way out toward the door as he considers, when the door opens. He’s too focused, the music Youngbae had on just loud enough and… Well, he doesn’t hear the door open, and he’s half out into the hallway.

What Jiyong _does_ hear, is the footsteps as someone rears back away from him, the shout as someone catches the first person, and then Youngbae bursting into the living room behind him.

“Jiyong, go.” Youngbae says, loud enough to cut through the blind confusion and panic that had seized Jiyong’s dragon-mind. It latches onto Youngbae’s voice, his presence, and after only a moment of hesitation, it does what Youngbae had said, and Jiyong finds himself trundling quickly down the hall toward his hoard; _safe, mine, alone._

Once he’s out of the situation he can think again, and he shakes himself before turning back into a human, arms going around his body. He’d felt so safe, felt so… But now he was _betrayed, exposed, hurt_ No, no no no. He was _fine._ Youngbae was there and no one they didn’t already trust could get into Youngbae’s home. _Their home._

He dresses shakily, can hear Youngbae’s voice through the door, talking to someone, calming someone down. He comes out in a big sweatshirt and sweatpants, old, Youngbae’s from years and years ago, and there at the counter are Daesung and Seunghyun and Jiyong cowers back a little, around the corner.

“It’s ok, Jiyong, come out.” Youngbae says, and Jiyong believes him, really and truly does, but that little voice in the back of his head halts him just around the corner, eyes big and on the people standing there.

Seunghyun is the most at ease, pretending he isn’t looking in the direction of Jiyong. He’s got something in his hands, Jiyong notes, something small and shiny and it makes him take a step closer before his eyes fall on Daesung who _isn’t_ looking at him _scared, scared, he’s scared_. It takes another deep breath for Jiyong to take his next step, and then he sees Youngbae’s outstretched hand and he reaches for it, coming to stand beside him, eyes low for a moment until whatever it as in Seunghyun’s hand slides across the counter and into his field of vision.

His eyes lift even as his free hand grabs at it, deftly tucking it away from sight.

“Explains a lot, really.” Seunghyun says, smile easy and calm, and Jiyong’s returning smile is a little lost and anxious, but it’ll be ok.

Daesung is quiet, and Jiyong can feel the nervous energy, soft and  pouring out of him, and it makes him want to apologize, want to… he opens his mouth, but Daesung beats him to it.

“I’m sorry for getting mad at you for taking our things, if I’d known…” He trails off, and _that_ was the nervous energy Jiyong was feeling from him; he was upset he had misunderstood him.

Jiyong shakes his head, pulling in a breath, “No, no I didn’t, I didn’t tell you, any of you. It’s not your fault at all.” He says in a bit of a rush on an exhale. They’re all quiet for a moment after that, Jiyong’s eyes are downcast.

Youngbae squeezes Jiyong’s hand, gentle and encouraging, and he makes a face. “I didn’t tell them everything.” He says, and Jiyong bites his lip, shifting from foot to foot for a moment.

“Can we do it in the living room? My back’s a little...” Stiff from changing so quickly back into a human. They agree and all migrate, Youngbae and Daesung staying behind to bring drinks out.

“I’ll admit this wasn’t my first thought.” Seunghyun says as he and Jiyong sit down to wait for them. Jiyong tilts his head and Seunghyun’s lips quirk up. “I thought vampire and alien first.” He admits, and Jiyong makes a slightly affronted face.

“Me? A _vampire?_ ” He asks, a little loud, causing Youngbae to laugh as he comes into the room and Daesung to stumble a little. “I’m offended.” He adds as he takes his glass from Youngbae.

“He was on to ‘irradiated pile of rags’ the other night with Chaerin before I could stop him.” Daesung confides as he sits, and Jiyong makes an outraged sound while Youngbae falls further into laughter.

Seunghyun just shrugs and lifts his glass in a salute of sorts. “I’m really glad you aren’t, as I believe radiation is bad for my complexion.” He says, as if it weren’t bad for _anything else._ “Besides, the whole dragon thing really fits and along with your name and all of the glaringly obvious clues, I’m a little embarrassed I didn’t think of it at all.”

Jiyong grumbles a little before righting himself in his chair and sighing, dramatic and put upon. “Mother will be pleased her naming plan worked out, then.” He says, taking a sip of his drink. He’s quiet a moment before he sighs again, shifting to lean forward. The haughtiness is gone, the drama, and now he’s Jiyong again, the Leader, ready to be sincere and forthright. “I’m sorry I didn’t tell you. It got away with me, as some things tend to do, and it became easier to hide it than to explain myself. I’m… I’m grateful that you’re both still here and haven’t run off yet.”

And he was. He truly, truly was. It was better than the silly little voice in his head kept telling him over the years. It was better for all of them to know.

_Now they all know everything is yours._

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this is it! I love this headcanon and enjoyed this story even though it's been one of the hardest to write since I began it earlier in the year. Thank you for continuing to read it, and I'm glad you've enjoyed it as well ^^

**Author's Note:**

> It's a bit... well, I like the idea at least ^^ hopefully more chapters coming soon.


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